


The Camera Eye: Trophy Boys 2 – These Boots Weren’t Made for Walking

by puss_nd_boots



Series: The Camera Eye [22]
Category: Alice Nine, DIAURA, Lycaon (Band), SCREW (Band), the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Bondage, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Mirror Sex, Polyamory, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To their utmost surprise, Yuuki and Yo-ka find themselves nominated for Japan Adult Video Association Male Awards for their first forays into corporate porn. But their night of red carpet glamour is about to run into some serious obstacles – including clueless reporters, jealous actors, Aoi’s ego and a certain pair of very uncooperative footwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Camera Eye: Trophy Boys 2 – These Boots Weren’t Made for Walking

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an ongoing porn industry AU series. The outfits that the various bands are wearing on the red carpet are from the following PVs: GazettE, Derangement; Alice Nine, Subete E; SCREW, Spiral of Mistrust; Lycaon, Gossip; Diaura, Silent Majority (although Yo-ka has the color/style of hair he’s had most recently).

Anyone in the industry who said he wasn’t watching every device he owned like a hawk the day nominations for the Japan Adult Video Association Male Awards were announced was a liar.

There were those who liked to pretend they were too cool to care, of course – mostly those who were considered among the ranks of alt-porn, or as the industry media preferred to call them, Suicide Boys. But they were sneaking looks at their phones and iPads when the big day arrived, too.

Yo-ka was making breakfast that morning – it was his turn to do so. Yuuki was sneaking glances at his phone as his lover flipped pancakes.

“On the JAVA Twitter feed?” Yo-ka asked as he put the water on for tea.

“I just happened to land there,” Yuuki said. “No big deal.”

“Sure,” Yo-ka said. “You want to see if you’re nominated.”

“I want to see if anyone I know got one,” Yuuki said. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Yo-ka said.

“You know I don’t do this for awards,” Yuuki said, scrolling down the page, trying to look casual. “I do this for me.”

“And awards wouldn’t hurt, either?”

“Is that an iPad I see next to you over there?” Yuuki pointed with his phone.

“What, this?” said Yo-ka. “I left it there.”

“You leave iPads on the kitchen counter all the time?” said Yuuki dryly, looking back at his phone.

“I leave stuff everywhere. You know . . .” Yo-ka suddenly froze. “Oh, holy SHIT!”

“What?” Yuuki tried to not make it obvious he was frantically scrolling now.

“We’re both nominated! We’re both up for Best Actor!”

“You’re kidding me,” said Yuuki – but a look at his phone revealed that Yo-ka was not, indeed, kidding. There were the names, clear as day, among the chosen five for Best Actor – Yuuki for Homme Fatale, Yo-ka for Datenshi Blue.

Well, damn. That was the last thing in the world he was expecting to see. Figures that both the videos they were nominated for were both corporate porn, but . . .

He scrolled down the page more, and then it was Yuuki’s turn to say, “Holy SHIT!”

“What is it?” Yo-ka rushed over to him.

“TWO. I have TWO nominations. I’m also up for Best Supporting Actor for Datenshi Blue!”

“Oh, my God . . .” Yo-ka hugged him. “Yuuki, that’s FABULOUS! Do you know how rare that is? Actor and supporting nominations in the same year?”

“I . . . can’t believe it.” He stared at his phone as if it were a UFO that had just landed at their table. Okay, awards were no big deal. Really. He still believed that.

But two nominations? It just wasn’t sinking in. It was bouncing around the surface of his brain like a rubber ball.

“We’re going to get dressed up for this,” Yo-ka said, hugging him again. “We’re going to that costume warehouse and raiding them. I’m going to get some kind of cool-looking uniform, and you . . .” He leaned his forehead against his lover’s. “The most glamorous thing they’ve got. You’re going to look like royalty on that red carpet.”

“I’m bringing my whip,” Yuuki said. “It has to look good with that.”

“Of course you’ll have your whip,” Yo-ka said. “Nobody will expect anything else. And then we . . .” He stopped, suddenly. “What do I smell?”

“Is that . . . smoke?” Yuuki looked up – and then, they screamed in unison, “FUCK, THE PANCAKES!!!”

As it turned out, they ate breakfast at Starbucks that morning. They considered it their victory celebration, and it was definitely worth the pan they had to soak, and the windows they had to leave open.

* * *

The headline on Sparxxx’s blog was pretty much what Uruha expected it would be. “JAVAS Think Pink!” The article went on to talk about Yuuki getting both best actor and best supporting actor nods – “a feat that has been pulled off only twice before in the history of the awards, by the likes of Atsushi Sakurai and Aoi.”

He smiled to himself. His boss was now eating the words of reluctance he’d spouted when Uruha first suggested bringing the Suicide Boy onboard.

All in all, it was a great haul of nominations for PSC Productions this year. The Ruki Horror Picture Shou didn’t pick up as many as Uruha had hoped – a Best Group Scene nomination for the dinner scene orgy and one in the new Best Mainstream Remake or Porn Parody category. But the nominations for Datenshi Blue made up for it – it had more than any other video that year. Best Video, Director, Screenplay, Actor, Supporting Actor, Sex Scene – Couple, Oral Scene . . .

Homme Fatale wasn’t far behind, with nominations for Best Video, Actor, Sex Scene – Couple and Oral. Uruha found it rather amusing that Ruki and Byou would be competing head to head – so to speak – in the latter category. The Kai/Shou duo had yet another nomination in the Best Romance Video category.

But the biggest news of all for the company was that Aoi would be receiving the Lifetime Achievement Award – the highest honor the industry had to bestow. He was on a set getting ready to go before the cameras when he got the news, and his public reaction was predictably Aoi-like – “Well, it’s about time they know a superstar when they see one!”

Of course, Uruha kept secret that he’d seen Aoi’s true reaction, when he and Kazuki were in in a room off the main set. The superstar had hugged his lover and said, “Holy shit. Holy shit, Kazuki, I don’t fucking believe it.” It was proof that even Aoi was capable of having moments when his guard was down.

As Uruha contemplated the article, the door of his office opened. Aoi, Kazuki and Saga walked in. Well, this was a strange combination. Aoi and Kazuki together was typical, but Saga was usually seen in the company of his fellow Nine Films refugees.

“What’s up, guys?” Uruha said.

“We’ve come to discuss a matter of utmost importance,” Saga said. “Regarding the awards, of course.”

“And that would be?” said Uruha, looking from one to the other curiously.

“Fashion!” Kazuki said. “We’re going to be on the red carpet, you know. And we’re here representing the three fashion teams.”

“Fashion . . . teams?” said Uruha.

“We figure we’re breaking into three squads to dress along a similar theme,” said Saga. “The Nine Films guys, the Screw Crew, and, well, everyone else.”

“We want to coordinate to make sure we’re not clashing with each other,” said Kazuki.

“And we want to make sure we all look good, of course,” said Aoi.

Uruha looked slowly at the three of them. “Look, guys, I know we can get the companies we model for to lend us clothes, but . . . three groups of coordinated looks?”

“Don’t you want us to stand out?” said Aoi.

“Of course I want us to stand out, especially considering the night you’re going to be having” – he gestured to Aoi – “but I don’t want us to break our budget, either. I know we had a good year, but the money for those videos has to go into more videos.”

“Already taken care of,” Saga said. “We’ve been going to clothing stores.”

“You’ve been buying clothes?” Uruha looked shocked.

“Not buying,” Saga said. “Telling them we’re going to be wearing them on the red carpet. We just didn’t say what KIND of red carpet.”

Uruha frowned “You’ve been deceiving them into thinking their clothes are going to be a on a mainstream red carpet?”

“Not deceiving,” Kazuki said. “Just . . . not giving complete info, that’s all.”

“Besides, I turned on the charm until they couldn’t say no,” Aoi said.

Uruha sat back down at his desk, slowly. “Let me make some calls,” he said. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Much as he appreciated his actors’ efforts, he didn’t want anyone to think their clothes would be worn to a mainstream movie premiere, and then see them show up at a gay porn awards show instead. Clothing manufacturers showing up at their door with pitchforks and torches was the last thing in the world they needed.

* * *

Fortunately, all Uruha had to do was talk to their friends at Nemesis – the punk and visual kei clothing line that liked to use porn stars as models. They not only agreed to outfit one of the “fashion teams” themselves, they pointed Uruha toward a designer of clothing for visual kei bands. The guy had a warehouse of costumes from groups that had gone bust. He’d be able to outfit his whole company at a more than reasonable cost – without having to be dishonest to anyone.

But as it turned out, he wasn’t the only one raiding that warehouse. Eros – the indie porn company that Yuuki and Yo-ka were associated with – decided they were going to go all-out in outfitting their double-nominated star and the lead in the year’s most nominated video.

“Custom boots,” Yuuki said in disbelief. “They actually ordered special BOOTS to go with my outfit. How many indie guys have custom boots?”

“Do you get to keep them?” said Yo-ka. He hadn’t done too shabby himself – he’d gotten his “cool uniform,” all right, a higher-quality outfit than he ever thought he’d be wearing in public.

“They want me to wear them on the red carpet and in a a few videos,” Yuuki said. “They’re a fetish company, so they don’t mind having their boots in a porno. We just have to give them onscreen credit.”

The only thing he was nervous about was whether the boots were going to arrive on time. The guy from the fetish company had seemed rather hesitant about promising them by the day of the awards. But they just had to be there on time – right?

* * *

As it turned out, they arrived literally on the big day itself.

Yuuki was looking through the closet for a pair of boots he already owned that might go with his outfit when Yo-ka arrived in the doorway with a big box. “Look what I have,” he said.

“About time!” said Yuuki. He tore off the paper, lifted the lid of the box – and pulled out the most spectacular piece of footwear he’d ever owned. “Wow,” he said. “Wow – would you look at those?”

“Incredible,” Yo-ka said. “Yuuki, those are really gorgeous.”

The pink-haired man stood in front of the mirror and held the boot against his leg. It would go up over his knee, showing a tantalizing length of flesh between the bottom of his leather shorts and the top of the boots. It laced all the way up, and had a sexy high heel. It pretty much screamed “Genuine, bonafide porn star.”

“This was worth the wait,” Yuuki said. “It was SO worth the wait.”

He quickly set about the business of putting on the rest of his costume – the shorts, the black lace shirt, the half-jacket over one arm . . . he’d put on the black pillbox hat and the black leather gloves (which laced up three-quarters of the way to his shoulder) later. First, he was going to get these things on his feet . . .

It was not until much, much later – after Yuuki had attended to hair and makeup and clothes and jewelry and accessories – that he discovered the one flaw in his otherwise flawless outfit.

He was pinning the hat in place when Yo-ka called out, “The car’s downstairs.” Yes, PSC Productions was sending a car for them. Damn, the rich life kept getting richer.

“Coming,” Yuuki said. He checked himself in the mirror one last time, reached for his coiled whip, stood up, took a step – and promptly stumbled across the floor.

“Are you all right?” Yo-ka asked him.

“I’m fine!” said Yuuki. “Just . . . a little unsteady.” He grabbed at a chair to right himself. Oh, shit. He didn’t have time to practice in these boots, to master them. Which meant he could barely walk.

This was going to be one hell of a night on the red carpet. Emphasis on “hell.”

* * *

PSC Productions’ three “fashion squads” worked out very well, as it turned out.

The Nine Films group was in uniforms – not severe, dictator-style ones like the uniform Yo-ka was sporting. Theirs were softer, more on the whimsical side, featuring plenty of “glittery, shiny stuff” as Saga put it. His was the shiniest of them all, with big, mirror-like lapels.

“If you win that screenplay award, you’ll blind the audience,” Tora told him. “And you’ll really stand out next to Jin. “

“He’s got shiny stuff on his outfit, too,” Saga said.

“He’s got a sprinkling of shiny,” Tora said. “More like a few stars in the night sky. You’re more like a supernova.”

Indeed, the Screw Crew’s outfits were more subtle – a lot of basic black. Byou had the most elaborate, with a long leather jacket (under which was a long vest, for in case the jacket got too warm) and black leather gloves. He’d also gotten his hair styled into something akin to dreadlocks for the occasion, leading his fellow Screw Crew members to make jokes about him using his head as a mop.

As for Uruha’s own group, they stuck mostly to black themselves. The exception was Ruki, who was resplendent in a blue suit of a velvety texture, with no shirt under the jacket.

“You’re not just walking the red carpet,” Aoi told him as they piled into the limo. “You’re the BLUE carpet!”

“Very fucking funny,” Ruki said, climbing in after him.

“Hey, you have a better shot at winning the Best Oral award this year,” Aoi said. “Sexy Alexi isn’t nominated.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ruki said with a shudder. It still burned him that he’d lost the award in his specialty category to the Russian porn star last year – a loss that huge swaths of the Internet said was unfair and possibly fixed.

This year, he really wasn’t going to give a shit. If he won, fine. If he didn’t? He still had the satisfaction of knowing he was in three of the year’s fastest-selling videos. How many people could say that?

The cars pulled up to the venue – the same hotel where the awards were held the previous year – but as soon as they arrived, Uruha knew that something was different.

“Look at that,” he said. “Look at all the press people!”

“Oh, my God.” Kai leaned over his lover to get a good look out the window. “That’s not just the porn bloggers, is it?”

“I think there’s some mainstream press guys out there,” Uruha said. He’d heard that a couple of LBGT publications would be sending representatives to the awards this year – but this looked like more than just that. There were even a couple of guys out there who seemed way too conservative to be covering an event like this.

“They’d better not be here to do ‘Look at those porn freaks’ stories,” Ruki said.

The limos stopped, and the PSC Productions crew spilled out – and were instantly assaulted by cameras. “Are you a top or a bottom?” said a hipster-looking young reporter to Uruha – obviously trying to look like he understood this world.

“I’m a director,” Uruha said.

“So that’s a fancy way of saying ‘top,’ then?”

Aoi was instantly grabbed by another out-of-place looking man. “You’re the one who’s getting the lifetime achievement award, right? Somebody said that it was you.”

“Yes,” Aoi said. “I am the great super . . .”

“So what constitutes lifetime achievement in this profession, anyway?” the man said. “Making love to the most women on camera?”

Aoi looked amused. “I’m not here for women,” he said.

“No?” The reporter looked puzzled. 

“This is the MALE awards,” Aoi said. “Get it? Male as in males with other males?”

The reporter looked shocked. “Really? You . . . you do THAT?”

“Don’t you?” Aoi said.

“No!” the man said. “No, never! I’d never . . . um, not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m not saying it’s bad for everyone, it’s obviously good for you, but not good for me! Um, that is . . .”

Meanwhile, Shou was pulling Kai away from the melee. “Is this going to go on all night?” he whispered.

“Maybe not,” Kai whispered back. “Yuuki just arrived, maybe he’ll draw attention away from us.”

A reporter suddenly jabbed his microphone into the faces of both of them. “Tell me,” he said, “how do you think the films you’re making compare to stuff like Deep Throat?”

The two looked at each other, baffled. “You can’t compare what we do to Deep Throat,” Kai said. “That film was made decades ago – when they were shooting on film and releasing in theaters.”

“You mean your stuff ISN’T shown in theaters?”

Kai and Shou exchanged looks again. As far as they were concerned, Yuuki couldn’t draw attention away from them fast enough.

* * *

Yuuki knew that this should have been the greatest moment of his life.

As soon as he stepped out of the limo – leaning heavily on Yo-ka’s arm – the porn press flocked to him like birds after a donut on the beach. This was it – the arrival of the new superstar, looking sexy and glamorous and unlike anything the industry had ever seen before.

He should have been strutting that red carpet, striking poses everywhere. He might have hated corporate porn, but he could appreciate basking in adulation and the glow of photo flashes as much as anyone.

All he could do was stand there stiffly, moving the upper half of his body. Twisting a little here, moving his arms there, holding the coiled whip above his head, taking baby steps . . .

Because of the fucking boots. Because of the goddamn footwear, he was feeling like a tightrope walker perched on a wire in a strong wind. One bit off-balance and he’d end up splat on his ass in front of everyone.

The mainstream press saw the porn journalists and bloggers flocking around the curious pink-haired creature in leather and lace. “Thought that guy said there was no women,” one of them said, loudly. Figuring the pink thing must be a big deal in the industry, they stampeded over as well.

Yo-ka, meanwhile, was hovering near Yuuki’s side. He was attracting his share of press attention as well, being the star of the top-selling gay male video in the country at the moment – but he wanted to make sure he was there to literally catch his lover if he fell.

He noticed Ruki making his way over. He knew full well he was currently sharing Yo-ka with his Homme Fatale co-star – just like Yuuki was sharing Yo-ka with his Datenshi Blue co-star, Byou. In porn, this kind of polyamory was known as “just another day at the office.”

Ruki leaned over and whispered to Yo-ka, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he move?”

“Boots,” Yo-ka replied, pointing to them.

“Holy shit,” Ruki replied. “He actually expected to walk in those?”

To make matters worse, a portly, balding reporter decided to approach Yuuki – as he was once again holding his coiled whip over his head for the cameras – and decided to demonstrate just how much he knew about porn.

“So,” the reporter said, pointing to the whip, “You’re the Christian Grey of this bunch, huh?”

It was as if the sound of a needle scratching across a vinyl record had rang out over the red carpet. Everyone froze. Ruki and Yo-ka both stared at the guy with their eyes popping out of their heads and their jaws dropping, looking like characters from an old Looney Tunes.

Yuuki’s fingers opened, his thumb still holding the handle of the whip in place. The leather uncoiled, drooping toward the ground, looking for all the world like an erection gone flaccid in the wake of a bucket of cold water.

“What. Did. You. Call. Me?” Yuuki said.

“Y’know, you’re the 50 Shades guy here, huh? The spank-me-spank-me one?”

Yuuki’s eyes suddenly blazed fire. He was starting to resemble the devil he’d played in Datenshi Blue. His whip hand drew backward . . .

Yo-ka and Ruki lunged at him at once, both grabbing his whip hand and yelling, “YUUKI, NO!” Which made Yuuki lose his balance. He stumbled around, flailing, whip flying up in the air, his two lovers both frantically trying to grab his arms to break his fall – only to have him pull them off balance as well. The three of them tumbled to the ground in a heap of leather and velvet and sparkles.

And meanwhile, a man with a black top hat covering his red, curly hair reached out a hand and caught Yuuki’s famous implement. “Hey, wow,” he said. “It’s raining whips!”

“SATOSHI!” Yuuki yelled from the ground. “Put that thing down and help me up!”

“What happened to you?” The newcomer reached down, grasped Yuuki’s arms and hauled him to his feet – at which point Satoshi saw the boots. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that!” Yuuki said. “I didn’t get a chance to break them in.” He reached up to the top of his head. “I need a mirror – is my hat still straight?”

Ruki and Yo-ka, meanwhile, were helping each other up. “Oh, hi, Satoshi,” Yo-ka said. “Not the best way to run into you.”

“Who’s this guy?” Ruki said. He knew he looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him.

“Ruki, this is Satoshi,” Yuuki said, wrapping an arm around the newcomer – as much for balance as out of affection. “He’s my best friend in the industry other than Yo-ka. I wanted you to meet him anyway.”

“You’re the one he couldn’t stop talking about,” Satoshi said.

“I hope in a good way,” Ruki said. “Sorry for greeting you from the ground. I don’t usually fall on my ass before I meet people.”

“I don’t, either,” Satoshi said. And then, to Yuuki – “But look at you, getting your picture taken everywhere! You’re the superstar now!”

“I didn’t intend to be,” Yuuki said, holding out his hand for his whip.

“You sure look like you were enjoying it,” Satoshi said, handing the implement back. “And you’re even up for awards.”

“Awards!” Yuuki looked dumbfounded, as if he’d forgotten this was the reason he’d strapped those torture devices on his feet to begin with. “What the hell am I going to do if I win one? I can’t walk up there with these things! It’ll take forever and I’ll fall on my ass!”

Satoshi wrapped an arm around him. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not about to win anything. You can trade boots with me during the show.”

Yuuki looked down at his friend’s footwear. Satoshi’s boots were a lot more normal-looking – but they also had a reasonable heel. He could walk in those.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“Never been more sure of anything,” Satoshi said. “Well, except for needing a drink as soon as we get in there.”

“You and me both,” said Yuuki. “You’re on.” He noticed the crowd starting to move toward the entrance of the building. “We need to get in there, anyway.”

He leaned heavily on Satoshi with one hand, Yo-ka with the other, and started for the awards. Well, win or lose, things had to get better from here, right?

* * *

Nearly an hour into the proceedings, the occupants of Yuuki’s table couldn’t have been more bored.

Fortunately, they weren’t seated with the corporate group – Yuuki liked those guys, a lot, but he still wasn’t ready to be identified as one of them.

On one side of the table were four guys who had worked with Yuuki on a fairly regular basis – Satoshi, the relatively-normal-looking-for-Suicide-Boys Ichirou and Hiyuu, and one guy who kept changing his name back and forth between Rito and Zero to the point where even directors didn’t know what to call him. On the other was a trio who mostly had experience with Yo-ka – Kei, Tatsuya and Shoya.

They all had drinks in front of them. They needed them. The show had begun with an unfunny comic – the alleged host – making dirty jokes. Then there were a bunch of minor awards – Best Videography, Best Art Direction, Best Editing . . . oh, and then there was a category of interest, Best Solo Scene, won by some guy from Hard Candy . . . but then back to Best Music, Best Non-Sexual Role (Really? There was an award for THAT?) . . .

Yuuki was fidgeting with the tie of his boots. They weren’t even near any of his categories, so they didn’t have to do the switch yet. Yo-ka was gazing over at the PSC table – more specifically, at Byou, who was leaning over and whispering something to Jin, then both of them were laughing, quietly.

Yo-ka didn’t know why he still felt like a high school boy with a crush whenever he saw his Datenshi Blue co-star. Okay, Byou had lived up to his promise to give Yo-ka the best blow job he’d ever had – and continued to equal that off-camera several times afterward. And he was great to hang out with, have drinks with. They both knew their relationship was a secondary one, that their primary commitment was to their own boyfriends.

But there was just something about him, something that made Yo-ka feel fluttery butterflies like he hadn’t in years.

The comic onstage was introducing another pair of presenters – a couple of veterans who were with Adonis. “This award is for best orgy scene,” one of them announced. “And the best orgy is any one that I’m invited to!”

Yuuki groaned and pressed his face into his elaborate leather glove as Satoshi leaned over and whispered to him, “Hey – if they’re getting into best scene categories, shouldn’t we switch boots? You’re up for Best Sex Scene – Couple, aren’t you?”

Fuck, he’d forgotten that one. He and Ruki were nominated for that, as were Yo-ka and Byou. “Let’s do this,” he whispered, leaning over to unlace the things, glad that attention was focused on the stage.

By the time they finished Best Orgy, won by a crew from Adonis (much to Uruha’s disappointment – there went the best shot for The Ruki Horror Picture Shou to win an award) and Best Threesome, which went to a group from Hard Candy, Yuuki was breathing easy, with much more manageable boots on his feet. Satoshi was in his stocking feet. “I’m not even going to try to put those on,” he said. “I value my life.”

But then, the host had a surprise for them. “And now, guess what, guys? It’s the award for Best Supporting Actor! Yep, we’re switching it up this year to make sure you’re on your toes.” The previous year’s winner came out, envelope in hand, all smiles.

“Supporting Actor doesn’t necessarily mean the guy on the bottom,” he said, “though God knows they did their share of supporting.” Yuuki had to restrain himself from facepalming again – instead, he pulled out a mirror for a last-second check of his makeup. The presenter was babbling on and on about how wonderful the performances were, how any of these guys could carry a video on their own . . . and then, finally, he read the names of the nominees.

“And the award goes to . . .” He ripped open the envelope. “Yuuki, for Datenshi Blue!”

Yuuki blinked. He’d won? He glanced around – people were leaping to their feet. Well, he’d better leap to his own feet and get the damn thing, right? He jumped up and started for the stage . . .

And suddenly, he realized that Satoshi’s feet were a lot bigger than his. The boots felt like his feet were in hollowed-out caverns. They dragged on the floor with every step. He had to pick his feet up, making him feel like he was marching up there like a majorette.

There were steps to climb to get to where the presenter was holding out his statuette. He started to mount them . . .

And his boot caught on the second step, sending him sprawling to his hands and knees. The crowd gasped.

Fuck. That was the second time he’d fallen tonight. First on his ass, now on his face. At least there was variety.

Well, he was just going to have to pull himself back up, right? He got back to his feet, held his head high and walked the rest of the way to the stage, as the crowd cheered even louder.

He held the award out and said, “I’m not a speech guy – but I need to thank everyone that made Datenshi Blue possible. Uruha, for casting me in the video; Saga and Jin for the great script; Yo-ka for just being fantastic onscreen and off and everyone who watched the film and told us they loved it – you’re all great. And I promise the next time you see me, I’ll be upright!” The crowd cheered again as he very carefully made his way back to his seat.

Yo-ka hugged him. “I knew you’d win,” he whispered.

“I didn’t,” Yuuki whispered back.

An award. He had a goddamn fucking AWARD. He would have never dreamed of that a year ago – hell, he never thought he’d even be considered for one. But here it was, along with the bumps and bruises on his elbows and knees from his spill.

Fuck it all – they were worth it.

* * *

As it turned out, Yuuki didn’t stay seated long. Two awards later, he and Ruki were called back up there for Best Sex Scene – Couple. He didn’t have to walk up there this time – two rather large actors suddenly swooped in and carried him to the stage as the audience laughed.

“I’ve done scenes with a lot of guys,” Ruki told the crowd, “but this guy was something special, and I don’t mean that lightly. You’re going to be seeing a lot of us together in the future.” Yuuki found himself glowing inside at that.

He responded by saying, “I couldn’t imagine a better co-star for my first major label video. “ And then, as was tradition for the couple winning the award, they made out onstage, much to the delight of the audience.

The rest of the evening was productive for PSC. Jin and Saga won the screenplay award for Datenshi Blue – talking about how collaborating helped their creative process and giving “a very special thanks to Starbucks, without whose products this video wouldn’t have been written.”

They got the Best Porn Parody award for Ruki Horror (to Uruha’s relief – at least that production wouldn’t go away empty-handed), and Byou won for Best Oral – much to Ruki’s annoyance. Byou was gracious in his speech, though, mentioning how Ruki was his early idol and his inspiration to become an oral specialist. He added, “An oral scene isn’t a solo act – so this award belongs to Yo-ka, too. I couldn’t have done the scene without such a great co-star.” (And there went those fluttering butterflies within Yo-ka again).

The ceremony for Aoi’s lifetime achievement award was right before the biggest ones – Best Actor, Director and Video. PSC had told the academy that they wanted their newest home-grown star to induct their all-time superstar – so Kouki, wearing a formal kimono, was sent out to do the honors.

“When I first started doing The Next Porn Star with PSC Productions, I was intimidated about working with Aoi,” he said. “He was the all-time superstar, right? Well, I found out there was nothing to be intimidated about. He’s a great guy to work with – he’s very helpful – and he knows how to take a joke.” The video screens behind the stage showed behind-the-scenes footage of Aoi discovering a rubber bug on his chair that had been planted by Kouki, screaming, then laughing. The audience laughed as well.

The screen went on to show a retrospective of his career – from his first role, a supporting part in the otherwise-undistinguished Like a Cheap Whore 3; to his breakout part in Totally Shameless; to his string of hits for Adonis and transition to PSC, and finally, clips of his most recent roles – ending with the screen being filled with a montage of Aoi stills, over which was superimposed a huge, glowing, gold version of his name kanji.

Kouki announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to introduce my co-star and the latest member of the Japan Adult Video Association Hall of Fame – AOI!” The crowd rose to its feet, and Aoi strode up to the stage, giving an elaborate bow, waving to the crowd, bowing again – and soaking up every drop of the adulation.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” he said, and the audience laughed. “Seriously, it’s been a blast, it’s been a wild ride. I don’t know how many guys are lucky enough to do what they love and get paid for it – but I guess I’m just lucky. What am I saying, I’m not just lucky, I’m a superstar!” The crowd roared.

“What a fucking idiot,” Ruku mumbled at the PSC table. Of course, Aoi would do this with this moment.

Aoi held his hands out for the crowd to quiet down. “But I’m telling you, I’m telling you, a superstar is what he is because of the people around him, and I’ve had some great people around me through the years.” He reeled off some ex-co-stars and directors from his old company, then named Uruha, Kai, Ruki, “the writing team . . .”

Kauzki looked worried. Was Aoi going to mention him at all? Was he going to be forgotten? That montage had pretty much told the story of their long partnership, onscreen and off – there’d been clips of the two of them all over the place.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Aoi said. “My partner, Kazuki. A superstar needs someone who can show him off to his best advantage, and . . . well, he’s it. And, you know – I hope I show him off to his best advantage, too, because he deserves it. So if I’m a superstar – and I am, no doubt about it – Kazuki, you’re just as much of a superstar as me.”

The PSC table sat stunned. Did Aoi just . . . say something somewhat humble? Aoi held the award over his head. “Thank you all, and good night!”

Kazuki sat there choked up, tears running down his face. “Aoi . . .” he said.

Byou leaned over and patted him on the back. “Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better,” Kazuki said.

What Aoi had said was the ultimate declaration of love, as far as Kazuki was concerned. Because Aoi had put him on as high a pedestal as he put himself. Maybe even higher.

* * *

Yo-ka was convinced that his evening was over. No way was he going to be named Best Actor. Not when he was up against Yuuki, and two veterans from Adonis, and Hard Candy’s rising star, Shin. That was okay. He’d had the satisfaction of seeing Yuuki win his award, and Byou’s acknowledgement of him from the stage. That was enough.

So when the envelope was opened and his name was read, he just sat there in shock.

Did he just hear that? That couldn’t have been his name – could it? No way. He misheard it, it was someone else, it was . . .

Except Kei was slapping him on the back and saying, “Get your ass up there! You won!” Yuuki was reaching out to hug him. And he was heading to the stage in a daze.

It was Aoi – last year’s winner – who was pressing the award in his hands. He was just waiting for the superstar to say, “Kidding! It’s really ME, ha ha!” – even though he wasn’t nominated this year. Nope, Aoi was bowing to him and stepping aside. Yo-ka was facing the audience – and had to make a speech.

“Well, fuck,” he said, and the crowd roared. “I was not expecting this. I was so not expecting this. I have to thank Uruha for being a genius and the writers for being brilliant and Yuuki . . . just for being Yuuki. And everyone else who was in the video – Ryoga, who was wonderful, and the crew, and . . .”

He took a deep breath and looked out at the audience. “And Byou, I’m sharing this award with you like you shared yours with me. You had a terrible situation – you came in at the last moment, and you were flawless. Nobody could ask for a better co-star.” He held the award over his head. “Thank you, thank you all!”

Yo-ka headed back toward his seat, breathlessly. Yuuki was waiting to hug him again – and then, Byou was waiting next to him, to hug him as well – and to press his lips to his ear and whisper, “We’re getting a room at the after-after-party” – held at the mansion owned by PSC’s wealthy benefactor – “and I am going to make you come SO hard.”

And that meant as much to Yo-ka as the actual award.

* * *

For Uruha, winning a second Best Director award was a lot easier than winning the first. Maybe it was because he had one already. Maybe it was because his people had swept the writing and acting categories, and that was the main thing he cared about this year. (And oh, how happy he was to see Yuuki and Yo-ka sitting there with their twin awards. He remembered the fight he’d had with his boss about putting the Suicide Boys in their video – and now, he was vindicated.)

He just wished he could thank Sparxxx in his speech for making this all possible – but thanking porn bloggers and the press was taboo. So he just added a vague reference to “Everyone else who was involved – and you know who you are.” He hoped Sparxxx would get the message.

He knew that Datenshi Blue was going to win Best Video, since video and director were rarely separated – and sure enough, a few minutes later, he was back up there again, with Reita and their co-producers from Eros. Uruha called the whole cast and crew to the stage with them, and said, “Datenshi Blue was something of a minor miracle. There were times I thought it wouldn’t come together” – like the Ruki strawberry incident, he thought – “but it did. So to everyone up here that was involved, thank you for everything you did.”

Especially you, Sparxxx, he thought again. He really owed the porn blogger a long E-mail. Sparxxx had not only brought the two stars to Uruha’s attention, the blogger had pulled strings so the JAVA nominating committee would fudge deadlines and allow the video to make this year’s balloting in the first place.

If all these awards belong to anyone, Uruha thought, they belong to Sparxxx.

The host came out again. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “But then again, that’s what you do all the time, right? Coming? Okay, good night, everyone, we’ll see you next year!”

* * *

Officially, the afterparty was in the hotel bar. That’s where everyone chatted with the members of the press, posed for pictures, danced a little for the cameras. (Yuuki switched back to his original boots – but stayed seated).

The real action was at the after-after party. Good thing the mansion it was held in had a lot of rooms, because they were all used for various twosomes and threesomes and foursomes and moresomes – or, as Aoi put it, “Porn stars plus booze equals you’d better have a ton of condoms and lube on hand.”

Between the parties, Yo-ka and Yuuki made a pitstop at their apartment so they could get changed and put away their awards, and Yuuki could dump the boots. Both of them put on kimonos – which made them laugh.

“Easy exit?” Yuuki said. “You and Byou are fucking?”

“So are you and Ruki,” Yo-ka replied.

“Save some for me,” Yuuki said, wrapping his arms around his lover. “I’m going to want to have you as a bedtime snack.”

“Same here,” Yo-ka said, leaning his head against Yuuki’s. “This was one hell of a night, wasn’t it? Awards? Us?”

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?” said Yuuki. “I never thought that would happen to me. Never.”

“What’s going to happen to our careers?” Yo-ka was actually a bit worried. Would this mean that they’d be claimed by corporate porn now? Would they become the very thing they most hated?

“Whatever we want to happen,” Yuuki said. “They can’t make us do anything we don’t want.”

“They can’t, can they?” Yo-ka said – and then pulled away from Yuuki just long enough to lean over and pick up a pair of long, leather gloves from a side table. “Almost forgot,” he said.

“You have a reason for those?” said Yuuki.

“I can’t be without my trademark, can I?”

Yuuki hugged Yo-ka close. “You’re as much of a manslut as me and I love you for it.”

Yo-ka hugged him back. Well, he wasn’t sure if “manslut” was the word he’d use. “Polyamorous and open-minded,” sure. But manslut?

Love, though . . . yes, he’d definitely use that.

* * *

Finding their lovers-for-the-evening proved an impossible task, though. The two award winners were swarmed with admirers when they arrived at the after-after party – both people they knew and people they’d never seen before in their lives.

One particularly intoxicated actor from Hard Candy leaned on Yuuki’s shoulder and started babbling about a major project he was trying to put together. It would be a gay porn version of an epic Russian novel with fancy costumes and plenty of angst, and Yuuki would be perfect for one of the leads, and they just needed to get some funding together from old buddies, and . . .

Fortunately, Satoshi arrived and pulled on Yuuki’s arm. “Come on,” he said. “There’s some guy from a magazine – a REAL magazine, not a porn one – here to take your picture.” The intoxicated actor fell like a chopped-down tree as Yuuki moved away from him, and he and Satoshi just watched him fall.

“Think we should do something about this?” Yuuki said as he watched the guy lie there in a heap, starting to snore.

“If he doesn’t move in a half-hour we’ll call an ambulance,” Satoshi said.

“You just saved my life,” Yuuki said, knowing damn well there really wasn’t a photographer and his friend was looking out for him. “It’s been one hell of a day.”

“I heard you almost whipped an asshole reporter right before I arrived,” Satoshi said, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“I wasn’t going to WHIP him,” Yuuki said. “You know I wouldn’t use something like that on anyone unless he’d given me full consent, a safeword and a list of his hard and soft limits. And a guy who looked like that?” He shuddered. “I wouldn’t use it at all. I was just trying to put the fear of being whipped into him.”

The two made their way toward the main bar, bobbing and weaving between pairs and groups in various stages of intoxication, undress and copulation. Some people were just chatting and laughing, some were groping each other – and then there was the guy who was blatantly undoing the zipper of a porn blogger. “Someone’s after some free publicity,” Satoshi said, yelling “GET A ROOM!” at the two as they passed.

“I’m sure most of the rooms are taken up already,” Yuuki said. “I heard about last year’s party. There was . . .” And he stopped as soon as his eyes caught sight of Ruki by the bar – still in his blue velvety suit, an Orangina in his hand. Even on occasions like this, Ruki was the only guy in porn who didn’t drink.

Satoshi saw where his friend’s eyes were going. “You see something you like, don’t you? Speaking of getting a room . . .”

“I don’t even know if he’s in that kind of mood,” Yuuki said, trying to sound cool – though he knew damn well Ruki would be.

“With you around? Of course he is.” Satoshi gave Yuuki a shove in Ruki’s direction. “I’ll go amuse myself elsewhere. Get yourself laid, Mr. Award Winner. You’ve earned it.”

Ruki looked up and saw his co-star/part-time lover – and immediately made his way over. “I was wondering when you were going to get here,” he said. “Thank God you ditched those fucking boots. Both pairs of them.”

“I’m determined to learn to walk in them,” Yuuki said. “It’s become personal for me now.” He wrapped his arms around Ruki and kissed him. “What is the boyfriend doing?”

“Took off with Kai,” Ruki said. “Same as last year. And yours?”

“Probably off in search of Byou,” Yuuki said. He didn’t correct Ruki on the use of the B-word, even though he didn’t like it and didn’t use it.

“Well, fuck, not like they don’t both know.” Ruki leaned in for another kiss. “You wore that kimono because it’s easy to get out of, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Yuuki said. “I knew I’d find you here.”

“Well, then, what the hell are we waiting for?” Ruki headed for the stairs, looking to see if Yuuki was following him.

* * *

When the drunken actor pulled Yuuki away from Yo-ka, the Best Actor winner (though that still hadn’t sunk in with him one little bit) found himself starting to wander through the crowd, listening to the conversations.

“Of course Yuuki won,” he heard one actor from Adonis telling another. “He’s the new wave in this business and the rest of us had better get used to it. Just looking pretty isn’t going to cut it anymore – you’ve got to be unique.”

Yo-ka smiled to himself as he heard that. Yuuki was having even more of an impact than Yo-ka himself ever thought he would – and he recognized his lover’s talent from the moment he met him. Yuuki was a star, through and through. He wasn’t just a beauty and a sexual animal, he had charisma in droves.

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something not right about the judging,” a director from Adonis was telling a group of freelance crew members. “Hard Candy wins Best Threesome the last FOUR years in a row? You can’t tell me that’s not fixed. Our guys work as hard as theirs do!”

And then, two more actors from Adonis . . . “Yeah, right, that candy-ass Suicide Boy deserved to win. Sure. Maybe if someone wrote a role for me when all my non-fucking scenes were rolling around on the floor crying, they’d hand me an award, too!” He adopted a mocking tone. “Oh, my wings! I lost my pwetty wings! I’m not an angel anymore, what can I doooo?”

Yo-ka froze. Okay, he knew there’d be backlash – especially among other actors. But that didn’t mean that guy’s words didn’t sting. He’d had ONE scene of rolling on the floor crying, dammit – right after his character’s fall from heaven. That scene had taken a lot out of him, too.

And then, a very familiar voice behind the group of assholes said, “You got a problem with Yo-ka winning that award?” And there was Byou, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other, looking pretty damn pissed.

“Yeah, well, since he was given a drama-lama part that was DESIGNED to get him an award? I got a problem with it,” the asshole said. “Your company swallowed all the hype about those all-makeup-no-talent flash-in-the-pan Suicide Boys like so much crap. They wrote that part for him so they could crow about the Boy of the Moment bringing home the bacon for them.”

“Were you on the set with him?” Byou said. “Did you SEE what he went through making that video? Have you ever acted against him at ALL?”

“I don’t work with Suicide Boys,” the asshole said. “I work with REAL actors.”

“Yeah, well, your loss,” Byou said. “Because I’m going to tell you something – I’ve worked with a lot of guys in my time, and I have NEVER seen an actor as professional as him. He knew his lines every day, he did a lot of thinking about his character, he studied angel mythology – he did everything a REAL actor does. And I wouldn’t talk about other guys being pro when rumor has it the reason your company had to invest in a Teleprompter was because of you.”

“HA!” guffawed the asshole’s friend. “He told you!”

“Shut the fuck up!” the asshole said, threatening to throw his drink at the other guy.

“It’s true, you know,” the asshole’s friend said. “That’s why they call you Telly. Short for Teleprompter.”

“If you don’t shut up, YOUR name is going to be CORPSE!”

Byou walked up to Yo-ka and put his arm around him. “How much of that did you hear?” he said.

“Enough to convince me he’s the biggest asshole in the industry.”

“Actually? Not by a long shot,” Byou said. “But I shut him up.”

“Thanks,” Yo-ka said, reaching up and squeezing the hand on his shoulder. And there went his fluttering heart again. It really was like a high school romance – Byou defending his honor against a bully. Bloody hell, he was regressing into a teenager. He just hoped he wouldn’t have pimples popping out on his face next.

“Let’s get you away from here,” Byou said. “Somewhere quiet.”

“Is there a quiet place in here?” Yo-ka said, looking around him. It certainly didn’t seem like it, with every square inch of floor covered with people drinking, gossiping, necking, groping . . .

“There is,” Byou said. He leaned over and kissed Yo-ka’s lips. “Upstairs – in the bedrooms. Remember what I said to you after I got your award.”

Yo-ka smiled. Oh, he remembered, all right – Byou telling him he was going to make him come hard. “Well, you’re going to have to do what you said now, aren’t you?”

He squeezed Byou’s hand again as the two mounted the stairs. Mr. Teleprompter could fuck off. Yo-ka had the award – and the hottest guy at the party as well.

* * *  
Yuuki needed this. He needed this like burning. He didn’t care if he could still feel the soreness in his elbows and knees as Ruki pulled him closer and they kissed hard – as if picking up where they left off with their onstage makeout.

“You’re fucking irresistible, you know that?” Ruki said, already starting on the knots holding Yuuki’s kimono together. Yuuki was all too happy to help him out, and the garment hit the floor quickly after that.

“Nothing underneath?” Ruki said. He sounded a bit surprised.

“I wasn’t planning to wear this thing long anyway,” Yuuki said. “Besides – everyone at this party has seen me naked, onscreen or off.”

He reached for the button of Ruki’s jacket, but Ruki beat him to it, shedding his own clothes quickly. “Too eager,” Yuuki said, giving him a playful smack on the bottom.

“There’s no such thing,” Ruki said, moving over to the bed and pulling the pink-haired man down with him. Yuuki kissed him, running a hand down his body, letting his nails gently scrape over his lover’s chest.

Ruki groaned at the brief shock of pain. “You’re too much,” he said.

“You haven’t seen too much yet,” Yuuki said. He reached for the tie of his discarded kimono and quickly looped it around Ruki’s wrists, tying the other edge to the bedpost. He was very glad the owner of this place conveniently had four-posters – the modern, solid headboards were so annoying when it came to bondage.

“Fuck,” Ruki said, struggling a little – mostly to heighten the sensation, the wonderfully helpless feeling.

“That’s the idea,” said Yuuki, reaching for Ruki’s own jacket. He stroked his fingers across the velvety fabric, feeling the texture . . .

It was perfect. He began to stroke it over Ruki’s chest, down over his stomach, back up again, letting him revel in the soft smoothness. Ruki made a little sound of pleasure and arched toward his lover.

This was Yuuki’s cue to take it up a notch, saying, “You’re going to like this.” And he proceeded to run the soft fabric directly over Ruki’s cock with one hand – while raking the nails of the other up his side. Pleasure and pain shot through Ruki at the same time, in equal amounts, and he cried out.

Satisfied with the results he was getting, Yuuki began to stroke the jacket slowly up and down the hardness, rubbing it back and forth over the tip. “This feels good, right?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ruki gasped. Good God, he was being fucked by his own awards night outfit. How many Hollywood celebrities could say that?

“It’s going to get better,” Yuuki said, as he began to stroke him faster – and raked his nails down his side again, drawing another sharp cry from the other man. He wrapped the jacket around Ruki’s hardness, rubbing him in short strokes designed to make the velvet caress him bottom to top, looking down at his lover’s face – Ruki seemed to be in some sort of sensual trance, his eyes nearly closed, his mouth open and panting. Yuuki leaned over, nipping at his chin, another sudden shock of pain among the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” Ruki moaned. “Oh, fuck, Yuuki . . .”

Yuuki leaned over, running his tongue over the tip of his lover’s hardness as his hand continued to work on the lower shaft, letting Ruki feel the contrast of the cool, dry brush of velvety fabric and the hot, wet licking. Ruki’s loud moans told Yuuki he appreciated this – a lot.

There was supposedly lube put in each one of these bedrooms, and Yuuki looked around, trying to find the stuff that was in here – yes, there it was, on the nighttable, along with a box of condoms. How thoughtful. He grabbed the bottle and poured some on his fingers, leaning over to press one against Ruki’s entrance.

“Tell me what it is you want,” he said.

“You know what I want!” Ruki said. “I want you to fuck me!”

“Is that really what you want?” Yuuki said, the finger starting to slide into the other man’s body.

“I’ve never wanted anything more, dammit!” Ruki said. “If I don’t get to come, I’m going to explode.”

“Maybe I’ll decide when you come.” The finger moved in and out, and Ruki moaned.

“Please,” Ruki said. “You had me hot enough to want to take you right in the middle of that damn show.”

Now Yuuki was intrigued. “When?” he said, starting to gently press in a second finger.

“Through the whole thing,” Ruki said. “You were the fucking hottest thing in the room.”

“And what did you think about during the show?” Yuuki said, pushing the fingers in and out, spreading them apart gently.

“Your hot body,” Ruki said. “Watching you fuck me.”

“You want to watch?” Yuuki looked around – there was a closet door with a full-length mirror on the other side of the room. That would do nicely. He slipped a third finger in, sliding them in and out, feeling Ruki arch up toward him again – until he thought he was ready and slid them out, reaching for a tissue to wipe his fingers off.

He untied the end of the kimono tie that was looped around the bedpost, but he kept Ruki’s wrists tied. “Stand up,” he said. “Walk over here.”

Ruki obeyed, and Yuuki positioned him in front of the mirror. “Lean over,” he said. He untied Ruki’s wrists. “You can brace yourself with your hands.”

The older man did as he was told. Sure enough, he was greeted with an eyeful of Yuuki behind him, grabbing his hips, starting to position himself – and he was incredibly beautiful, sensual, dangerous-looking. He was the very incarnation of sin itself. No wonder he’d just won an award for playing a devil.

“Say what you want me to do,” Yuuki said, positioning himself at Ruki’s entrance.

“Fuck me,” Ruki said. “Fuck me and let me watch you do it.”

Yuuki pushed forward, and Ruki felt the hardness pressing into him, filling him. He watched his own face, watched the beautiful man behind him, the blissful look on Yuuki’s face as he felt himself sinking into tight heat.

“You’re delicious,” Yuuki said, pausing, letting Ruki get used to the sensation of being stretched and filled. “Delicious and beautiful. I like watching you, too.”

He pulled his hips back, and started a slow, gentle thrust, while Ruki’s eyes were glued to the mirror, following every movement. He saw his own skin start to take on a flush as Yuuki picked up speed, droplets of sweat start to appear on his skin and roll down.

Ruki had seen himself fucking on video plenty of times – but that was nothing like seeing himself in the mirror, seeing and feeling at the same time, watching Yuuki’s hips move as the hardness slid in and out of him.

Yuuki leaned over, kissing and licking his neck, and Ruki watched the tongue slide over his flesh, Yuuki’s pink hair brushing against him, their two faces so close together, both bearing expressions of pure pleasure.

The two men both began to move harder and faster, Yuuki grabbing Ruki’s hips tighter as Ruki pushed back against them, the reflection showing them both drenched in sweat now, the scratches on Ruki’s side standing out against his skin, a reminder of the earlier pleasure mixed with pain, just making him feel hotter.

Yuuki murmured, “You’re gorgeous. So beautiful when you’re being fucked, it’s like you can never get enough cock, ever.” He wrapped his fingers around his lover’s erection and started stroking. “Moan louder for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ruki groaned. “Fuck, Yuuki . . .”

He watched the expert fingers caress his cock, running along the shaft, up and down, slipping over the head – and his body was trembling, heat pooling in his belly, he was getting close, so close . . .

A twist of the fingers along the shaft did it. Ruki cried out, loudly, watching his own come pouring from him, running all over Yuuki’s fingers and toward the floor. Yuuki thrust into him harder, faster, seeking his own ecstasy – and it came after a few thrusts, as he pushed hard into Ruki’s body, crying out loudly.

Ruki sagged against Yuuki, and Yuuki clung tightly to him, not wanting to tumble to the floor for the third time tonight – although this one would be justified, and welcome.

“You’re amazing,” Ruki mumbled.

“You’re even more amazing.” Yuuki guided him back toward the bed, and they both flopped to the mattress, laughing.

“Fuck, this was better than all the damn trophies in the world,” Ruki said, rolling over to bury his head in the juncture of Yuuki’s shoulder and neck.

“You mean that?” Yuuki said.

“Yes.” Ruki nuzzled him again.

“I’m honored,” Yuuki said. “What about a lifetime achievement award? Worth more than that?”

“If they ever give me one of those, I’m not acting like that bastard Aoi did,” Ruki murmured.

“Why?” said Yuuki. “You’d be entitled to it.”

“Nobody’s entitled to act like an egomaniac,” Ruki said. “I don’t need one of them, anyway. I’ve got everything I need right now.”

Yuuki smiled and held him tighter. What Ruki just said meant more to him than all the awards in the world, too.

* * *

Yo-ka wasn’t questioning at the moment why he had his schoolboy crush on Byou.

Not when he was lying on the bed naked with an equally naked Byou on top of him, holding his leather-gloved hands over his head. Byou`s tongue slipped down his neck, moving down to his collarbone, nipping at it.

“You want me to suck you?” Byou said. He leaned over and licked at a nipple, a quick brush of his tongue.

Yo-ka shuddered. “Yes, please!”

“How much?” A flick of the tongue on the other nipple.

“I need it,” Yo-ka moaned. “I need it so much . . . I was thinking about your mouth all night.”

“What will you do to get it?”

“Whatever you want.” Yo-ka tried to keep the needy edge out of his voice – to no avail.

“In that case . . .” Byou released Yo-ka’s wrists. “I want YOU to suck ME first.”

“You do?” Well, that caught Yo-ka a bit by surprise. Byou was the oral specialist here. Yo-ka had given head on camera, of course – it was a requirement for the profession – but he’d never considered it one of his strongest points.

“I want to see what you can do.” Byou perched at the edge of the bed, legs spread. “Kneel on the floor.”

The tone in the other man’s voice made Yo-ka shudder inside. He knew he had a tendency to be a “switch” – a much-valued commodity in the porn industry. He got a thrill both from being a master and from being mastered, and right now, Byou was pushing the latter button, but good.

Yo-ka slid down to the floor, sliding his gloved fingers over the erection in front of him. Byou had a lovely cock, beautifully sculpted, feeling very nice indeed to the touch. He loved making love to the other man with his hands – which was, after all, his specialty.

But that wasn’t what Byou wanted right now. To earn a blow job, he had to give one. And suddenly, the feeling of being a teenager around Byou came back, big-time – as in, Yo-ka didn’t know what to do next. One would have thought he was a virgin, not an award-winning porn actor.

He opened his lips and stroked his tongue along the shaft, slowly. He   
licked upward, circling the shaft, then back down again – it was bigger than he thought it was. His lover had a nice, sexy vein running from bottom to top, so Yo-ka let his tongue follow that. He heard Byou moan, felt hands tighten on his head – good, he was doing well.

He reached the tip, and wrapped his lips around it. This felt good – Byou seemed to slide into his mouth easily, filling it nicely. The texture of the skin was lovely, too – smoother than he thought it would be, but still very hard.

The cock slid further in, and Yo-ka noticed the musky scent and taste, sending another shuddering thrill though his body. Sight, smell, feel, taste, and the sound of heavy breathing and moaning . . . he was experiencing Byou on every level.

He began to slide down further, feeling the heat start to grow in his own belly, resisting the urge to reach down and pleasure himself – letting his desire build up would increase the force of his own orgasm when Byou sucked him off.

He reached out and gripped his lover’s thighs, squeezing gently, feeling the firm muscles. And he found himself opening his mouth wider, sucking harder, sliding down further with every thrust.

His position shifted slightly, lifting his upper body up a little so his head and neck would form a straight line, and then he thrust down hard and fast, taking him deep, deeper, deepest, then moving back, down again, further, further . . .

And then he felt something solid in his throat, and heard Byou cry out – and it hit him. He was deep-throating. He’d never done it before, on camera or off. It suddenly filled him with a sensation of pride, of power – and heat. It was so incredibly fucking sexy, knowing he was giving Byou a pleasure that not all his lovers could.

He moved back, then quickly down again, feeling himself being fucked in the throat, hearing Byou’s moans. The hands in his hair were pulling now, the pain adding to his excitement. He sucked with everything he could on the outstroke, wanting Byou to come in his mouth, wanting to swallow him like he couldn’t on-camera.

Yo-ka brought his gloved fingers into play, caressing the base of his lover’s cock as his mouth worked the tip, sucking and licking . . . then slid down, and down, and down again. Byou stiffened, and cried out, and Yo-ka got his wish – there was come pouring into his mouth, down his throat. He pulled away so he could gulp at it, swallowing it, taking the other man’s essence inside him.

He moved up to kiss Byou’s lips. “Was that good?” he said.

Byou was still trembling, eyes closed. “Oh, fuck,” he said. “You didn’t just eat cock – you swallowed it!”

“I’ve never done that before.” Yo-ka still looked flat-out surprised. “It just happened. I was sucking you, and all of a sudden – I was deep-throating. It was incredible.”

“It was incredible for YOU?” Byou said. “I’m going to order you on your knees more often.”

“So . . .” Yo-ka looked at him, his eyes carrying heat. “Do I get my reward now?”

Byou pushed him flat on his back, kissing his lips hard, pressing his tongue into his lover’s mouth as if eager to taste his own essence. His hands moved down the other man’s torso, fingers lightly brushing over the nipples before heading downward, pausing at around the level of his navel.

The older man’s tongue swept down his partner’s neck, headed straight downward, tracing the fine lines of muscles – and Yo-ka did have a very, very nice chest. Just one of the desirable things about him. Byou circled a nipple, feeling the trembling of the younger man under him before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

Yo-ka arched upward, letting out a little, strangled sound, opening his legs wider and pushing his hips upward, as if to say, yes, yes, I want that tongue on my cock, I want it now . . .

Byou wasn’t about to do that, though. Not when he could move down Yo-ka’s stomach, slowly, thoroughly exploring the flesh with his tongue, with an occasional nip just to punctuate the longing with a little bit of pain.

Yo-ka gripped the bedclothes under him, thinking his body was going to catch fire, he was going to spontaneously explode. He’d be the first award winner to be found as a pile of smoke and ashes and smoldering hormones the very night of his victory. Cause of death: Byou’s tongue.

That hot, wet thing had finally reached his erection, and started lightly brushing around the tip, then pulling back. Yo-ka shuddered, reaching down with one gloved hand to grip the other man’s hair.

“What is this we have?” Byou said, lightly brushing his tongue over it again. “And what should I do with it?” Another light lick.

Yo-ka moaned loudly. “Suck me. Please . . .”

“Maybe.” Byou lightly flicked his tongue down one side of the hardness. “I’ll have to think about it.” He lightly brushed it up the other side.

Yo-ka was flat-out panting now. The little flashes of pleasure he was getting were just making things worse. “Please, please, I need my cock in your mouth!” He arched up toward him.

“Let’s see.” Byou lightly traced his lover’s balls with the very tip of his tongue, earning a hard shudder. “Well, you DID earn it.” And that was punctuated by a sharp little nip to the inner thigh.

“Yes,” Yo-ka moaned. “Please, I want to come like I made you come.” He didn’t care how shamelessly he was begging. His need had pushed him to that point.

“When you put it that way . . .” Byou licked up the side of Yo-ka’s erection again, this time a long, slow sweep of the tongue that seemed to touch every nerve ending, making the younger man moan loudly. He continued upward to the tip, which he moved back and forth across, 

Byou lifted his head. “Edge of the bed, like I was,” he said. “So I can kneel on the floor.”

Yo-ka obeyed, moving to the desired spot, perching on the edge and spreading his legs apart. “Do it,” he panted. “Please, please do it . . .”

Byou knelt on the floor, wrapped his hand lightly around the base – and didn’t play around. He took the head in his lips and sucked hard, making his lover cry out. He moved down quickly, relaxing the muscles in his mouth and throat so he could go deeper with every thrust, moving his head up and down rapidly as Yo-ka murmured his name, hands pulling at his hair.

“So good, you’re so good, you’re incredible . . .”

Byou shifted his position, opened his mouth and relaxed his muscles even more – and gave his lover what he wanted, sweeping down, and down, until he was flat-out devouring him.

Yo-ka gasped. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes, this was what he wanted, what he’d been thinking of all night, being deep-throated, completely eaten, wetness seeming to envelop every part of him. Then, Byou moved back, and he felt his cock slipping through those lips, and cool air on the base, contrasting sharply to the intense heat of before, making him shudder again.

Byou thrust downward again, and Yo-ka was thoroughly fucking his lover’s mouth and throat, moaning loudly and writhing and resisting the urge to thrust his hips – he didn’t want to interfere with Byou’s rhythm.

Yo-ka had his head tipped back now, his eyes closed, his mouth open as he panted and moaned and let out sounds he didn’t think could come from him, his whole body tense and glistening with sweat . . . and when Byou thrust down on him hard, he finally let go, letting out a long, low cry as his body trembled, his come pouring down Byou’s throat like he had done to Byou.

He fell backward to the bed, panting, feeling Byou move up and kiss him, and now both men could taste themselves on each other’s mouths. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on, leaning their heads together.

“Was it worth the wait?” Byou said.

“You’re more than worth the wait,” Yo-ka said. “This is why they gave you an award for oral.”

“Hearing you come like that is all the award I need,” Byou said. “And I want to hear you come like that again.”

Yo-ka snuggled against the other man. He felt wonderful right now. Warm, sated, content. This was worth more than the award for him, too. At moments like this, he really did feel like he was falling in love with his co-star – a different kind of love than he felt for Yuuki. That was a solid, forever kind of love. This was the intense glow of a passionate affair.

For him, right now, that was enough.

* * *

The tabs in Uruha’s browser all contained post-awards write-ups. The headlines were all similar – “Attack of the Suicide Boys! Yo-ka and Yuuki Grab Acting Prizes at JAVAS.” “New Guard Here to Stay? PSC/Eros Collabs Clean Up At Awards.” “Making History: PSC/Eros Sweep of Major JAVAS First of Its Kind in 12 Years.”

He smiled to himself. He was vindicated, all right. His boss had told him it was “on his head” when they stuck the collaboration deal with Eros – well, now his boss was pretending it was his idea all along. Of course.

His phone beeped. He picked it up. “Hello?”

“Okay, it’s a done deal,” his boss told him. “Two solid years of co-productions with Eros. Yuuki and Yo-ka will be the stars. They specified that Saga and Jin should collaborate on the scripts again, but you probably knew that.”

“Good,” Uruha said. “They’ll be glad to hear it.”

“And get the next one going right away!” his boss said. “We have to strike while the iron is hot!”

“Don’t worry,” said Uruha. “I have ideas already. I had a talk with Sparxxx at the after-after party that was very enlightening.”

“That damn porn blogger again,” his boss said. “Whatever. I’m not going to mess with success.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Uruha said, smiling slyly. He hung up and went back to his screen – when he heard a strange sound in the hall. It was . . . clumping. Like someone pacing back and forth, wearing very heavy footwear.

He opened the door, and saw the very person he was supposed to have a meeting with in five minutes - walking up and down the hall in the boots he wore to the JAVAS.

“Yuuki?” Uruha said, looking confused.

“I’m bound and determined to master these things!” Yuuki said. “I’m not going to let them win! I’ve been wearing them everywhere!”

Uruha looked amused. “Everywhere?”

“Well, not to the conbini.” It wouldn’t exactly cut an impressive picture if someone went in to buy bread and green tea wearing high-heeled kinky boots. “But you know what I mean.”

Uruha smiled. “Then we’ll make sure the boots are in your wardrobe for a future video.”

“And I’ll be able to walk in them, too!” Yuuki said. “You watch!”

He continued his clomping up and down the hall. When he’d truly mastered them – when he was able to walk in them gracefully and freely, maybe even snapping his whip as he moved – then awards be damned, that would be the biggest accomplishment of them all.

**Author's Note:**

> The ultimate inspiration for this fic was Lycaon's Gossip PV, where it is extremely obvious that Yuuki is having great difficulty with his ultra-high-heeled kinky boots - his movements are much more restricted than they usually are in Lycaon PVs and for half the video, he's holding onto a railing for dear life. (When the boots showed up again, in Akujo no Hohoemi, he'd obviously been practicing with them - he was able to walk around more freely and even snap his whip). Also, his tumble on the way to the stage to get his award was inspired by Jennifer Lawrence's fall at last year's Oscars.


End file.
